


Dear Darling

by stopitlarry



Category: One Direction (Band), X Factor RPF
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, This is really fluffy wow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 12:54:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stopitlarry/pseuds/stopitlarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry writes a journal, Louis consumes a lot of his thoughts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear Darling

**Author's Note:**

> Harry's been carrying around a journal a lot recently. I blame him for this. Idk if this is even good, it's just so fluffy. Wow, I'm really sorry.

Harry never imagined he would fall this fast. The thing was, Harry _always_ fell fast. But with Louis, Harry could never think of a time when things were actually moving slowly.

Harry thought of Louis a bit like the sun; always glowing brighter than everyone else, no matter how many people were in the room. He liked that Louis was older than him, however still spared the time to pay attention to him. Not that Harry wanted attention, he just liked Louis. He liked him _a lot_.

Maybe it was Louis' fringe that he really liked. The way it sat so perfectly in order to frame his face. Or the way it always looked so smooth and shiny, even after a full day of work. Maybe Harry liked that when Louis laughed, it reached his eyes and made them shine the brightest blue, maybe even more blue than the sky on a summers day. Or maybe it was the way that, when he and Louis were alone, he would let out a girly giggle. He would notice that he would be doing it straight away and pull his hand up to cover his face, which, Harry thought, made him look even more adorable.

Harry also really liked the fact that Louis could be the loudest out of the group all day, lifting everyone's spirits, but when he was alone he could sometimes be the most vulnerable. Harry liked to think he could cheer Louis up and wanted to be the reason for his smile. Sometimes, he would walk past Louis' room and see him curled up in a ball, in the centre of his bed, looking smaller than he already was. Harry never liked seeing people upset. He would always try and comfort Louis the best he could, make him smile, cuddle him until he was pliant in Harry's arms or cook him his favourite food. Harry never minded, if Louis was happy, he was happy.

 

He was never really sure where he got the idea from. He knew he always enjoyed writing - even in school, his favourite subject was English. Something about creating your own characters, sculpting them the way you want and giving them feelings and emotions that may relate to hundreds of people or, simply just a handful. Harry always saw it as his safe haven, writing something down, making it your choice if you want to share it with someone. However, he was more prone to throwing whatever he had written away, not wanting to burden his feelings on someone else.

On one of his rare days off, he had decided to take a trip into the town nearby. Not really looking for anything in particular, just going from shop to shop, occasionally browsing at a few items if they caught his eye. 

Being his sixteen year old self, most people his age would hide from any charity shop within a five mile radius of them, however Harry was quite fond of scanning the shelves full of odds and ends. You were never sure what you were going to find and Harry was always one for being spontaneous. 

So as Harry was rifling through the shelves, what he didn't expect to find was a brown leather, vintage journal. It was pushed to the far back of the shelf, almost forgotten. Being ever so gentle, Harry retrieved it from its forgotten spot and proceeded to observe it. Firstly, running his hand over the front cover, then doing the same to the back. Even though it looked rather old, the condition of it was still immaculate. 

The tanned leather was still smooth, not worn at all. The pages, although faded in colour a little, were all still present and all were unused. There was a thin, leather strap that tied round the book, holding it closed. On the left hand side was a pen, regardless of it worked, Harry couldn't resist. Turning the price tag over, he was shocked to find the book at such a low cost. 

Without a second thought, Harry was on the way back to their X Factor house, proudly clutching his new journal. Although he wasn't sure who he could show it off to, he was more than happy with himself and the bargain he had gained.

Harry was eager to use his new journal, to write about his day-to-day life and how he felt at every moment. So that night, when he was sure the other boys, Louis, Niall, Zayn and Liam were all asleep, he began pondering his first entry.

Usually, Harry was one to live life for the moment and think of his first thought as the right one. However, once faced with the task of writing his first entry, he decided to consider several options. After all, he didn't want to tear any pages which would ruin the spine of the book. Carefully opening the leather cover and turning to the first page, he pulled the cap off his ink pen and begun writing.

He thought a simple " _Hi, it's Harry! I'm not really sure what I'm meant to write in here .x_ " would work well. The " _Harry_ " would introduce who he was, he could look back later and not be too embarrassed on his first entry and the " _.x_ " just seemed right to sign off with. At the bottom of the page he decided to fully sign off with a smiley face. _Quirky_. 

 

Over the course of The X Factor and his time in the house, himself and Louis seemed to form a closer bond, if that was even possible. Late at night, if Harry was feeling homesick, he would silently tiptoe over to Louis' bed, thinking he was asleep. Every time though, as Harry would approach Louis' bed, Louis would lift the covers, Harry's cue to slide in next to him. It was nice, Harry thought, being pressed up to Louis' side, one arm slung over his stomach and being able to feel smaller than the already smaller-than-him boy next to him.

When they would wake in the morning, none of the other boys would find it strange that the two shared a bed _again_ , they would brush it off and very rarely mention it.

That was usually the general topic of Harry's journal - Louis. Whether it was something like _"Louis said my hair looked nice today, but his always looks nicer and softer, too"_ or _"Louis kissed my nose, he's adorable!"_ Harry would always find something new to write about Louis. Sometimes he would write longer entries, usually about his day, however it would mostly come down to Louis. 

 

Harry was surprised that no one ever found his journal. Not that he wanted anyone to, the things he wrote in there were personal and if they ever got out, he would probably blush bright red from embarrassment. He always kept it in a safe place, under his pillow. It was convenient to pull out late at night, when the boys were asleep, and write about the boy who he was in love with. No, not in love. Not yet. Harry would usually use the word love to describe something about Louis in his journal, however he would always put a neat line through it and finding a different verb to use for his intense feelings towards Louis. 

 

Half way through his book, and Harry realised his feelings towards Louis hadn't changed. He was still writing about him almost daily, writing anecdotes about something funny Louis did that day or how he laid a hand on his tummy when he laughed too hard. Harry begun to realise that Louis was slowly becoming his life. He couldn't remember how he felt before having Louis around, although he suspected it very boring and a bit of a drag.

 

It was just after their mid-week rehearsals, everyone was exhausted, however Louis was still full of life and not wanting to sit still. After ten minutes of sitting around doing very little, the final few housemates decided to make their way to their retrospective rooms. Niall, Zayn and Liam were already in the back room, more than likely playing an intense game of FIFA. So that left Harry and Louis, alone in the living room. Harry thought now was the perfect chance.

"Lou, have you ever kissed a boy?" Harry asks, slow at first, then his words begin to run away with him. "Like, I know you've obviously kissed a girl - your face - I mean. I wonder if it's different from kissing a girl?" _Shit_. " _Your face_." Smooth one, Harry. 

Although they were only at opposite ends of the sofa, Harry could still hear the sharp intake of breath that Louis took. And then it fell silent.

"Well, I-I don't know, Harry. I've never kissed a boy. Not properly, anyway." Louis can feel the heat rising in his cheeks, but he's trying not the let it show, instead favouring on fixing his shirt, then his hair, then his shirt again.

"Me either. Like not properly. Not ever." Harry wasn't sure if Louis knew where he was going with this, but he wasn't going to push him into something he wasn't comfortable with. Harry always wanted Louis to feel comfortable and _he_ didn't want to be the one to change that.

"I guess it's the same, Haz. I guess. I mean, I don't know." Louis is still falling over his words, finding the right thing to say.

Harry was trying to keep his voice as even as possible, however his words got away with him before he could catch them. "Should we try. We don't have to - but, to see what it's like, you know?" 

That caused a small laugh to escape from Louis' lips, the one that made every part of Harry's skin tingle and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "No, Harry, I don't really know."

Without responding, Harry crawled over to the other side of the couch, and perched himself in between Louis' slightly spread legs. "J-just tell me when to stop. If you're not okay - that's okay - we can stop." Harry spoke in a hushed tone and was unaware of where his new-found confidence came from. Louis only hummed in response, too afraid of his voice failing him. 

Harry touched Louis with gentle hands. Always trying to be gentle with Louis. It was like, if he pressed to hard into the jut of his bones, Louis would break into millions of tiny pieces that Harry wouldn't be able to fix. He wouldn't know how to deal with the pain if Louis was gone, forever. 

He begun with his hands, placing them carefully under the loose fitting jumper Louis was wearing. Harry couldn't help but glance quickly at them. He was fascinated by the contrast of his large, pale hands spanning Louis' tanned, slim hips. Leaning forward, Harry placed a kiss on the side of Louis' neck. He lingered there for a moment, hot breath falling onto Louis' neck, until Louis nodded, assuring Harry that this was okay. He was okay. 

Louis fell quiet underneath Harry, only his soft breathing was a sign to Harry that he was still there and this was real. Harry's lips soon found Louis' ear to whisper "Can we try it, please? Kissing a boy." Louis' only response was a murmur into Harry's shirt, something that he thought sounded a bit like "Okay, Harry. Only if- Okay." 

Harry slowly turned his face and placed it in line with Louis'. Staring down at the boy below him, into his clear blue eyes, Harry was certain he saw Louis' gaze falter, if only for a second, to look at Harry's lips. The only thing Louis said before Harry's lips were on his was "Slowly" - Harry wouldn't be anything other.

It wasn't anything heated, a simple peck that lasted for a few seconds. But Harry felt it through every inch of his body. All the clichéd metaphors that were used to describe kissing, he felt them. When he drew back and opened his eyes, Louis was smiling back at him. It was his favourite smile. The one where his eyes were half closed, but still shining, he had deep crinkles by his eyes and he was smiling so big, Harry was worried he might split his face in two.

 

Later that night, if Harry squealed into his pillow and wrote " _I can't believe he kissed me. Like, he actually really kissed me, he really kissed me_ " with a few extra " _.x_ "'s and smiley faces, Louis didn't need to know. 

 

Two weeks later and Harry's journal was more than three quarters full. Occasionally he liked to doodle, if he couldn't put into words exactly what he wanted to say. Most of the time, it was quotes that Louis had said to him or complements (" _Your curls make your ears look quirky_ " or " _You always make me the perfect tea, thank you, babe_ "). Harry always knew the " _babe_ " part was sarcastic, nevertheless it still made him feel warm inside.

It was also becoming more regular that Harry would write " _Me and Louis kissed again today, he's so pretty_ ". Maybe not the pretty part, Harry was fond of using a different word to describe Louis' features in every entry, however that was his favourite.

One week and many shared kisses between the two later, Harry wrote his most important entry and his last for a while.

" _Louis asked me to be his boyfriend, I said yes. I like him a lot, he's perfect._ "

Two years down the line, Harry and Louis are at the height of their careers. Although their relationship may feel pushed to the limits at times, they're still as strong, if not stronger, than ever.

They've been home from touring for a few days, and both boys decided that they need to clear some space in the house. Whilst on tour, both of them collect random items, bring them home and realise they are of no real value or worth. Nonetheless, they still keep them stored away, hoping they will be put to use at some point.

"Harry, baby, come here for a second, will you? What's this?" Louis calls, knowing Harry's at the other end of the hall.

Harry leans against the door frame to find Louis holding a familiar item in his hand. It's something he never thought he would have to explain to anyone. He thought he misplaced it years ago, never being able to find it after they started touring and moving place to place. It looks larger in Louis' hands and the tan colour sort of matches with his skin, Harry thinks.

"Oh-erm, that's nothing. Can I have it? It's nothing." Harry flounders, however he knows Louis won't give it to him, no matter how much he asks.

"Aw, did little Haz keep a diary?" Harry knows Louis is only teasing him as a joke, but he'll never hear the last of it. After a moment of realisation that, if Harry doesn't show him now, Louis will probably hold him to it for a long while.

"Just look at it, if you're that bothered, babe." As soon as Harry says the words, he regrets them, But, hey, no turning back now. Louis is really going to read what was going on in his sixteen year old mind.

Harry makes his way across the room and sits beside Louis, in order for him to see what Louis is seeing. Louis opens the first page and sees the first entry, " _this could be okay_ " he thinks. But then, as Louis begins turning more pages, Harry face seems to get hotter and hotter. Scrawled on each page are notes and stories about how much he adores Louis. Little poem-like paragraphs fill some pages, all about _Louis_ and how _wonderful_ Louis is.

Noticing Harry's shame, Louis places the book on the floor and removes Harry's face from where it's hidden in his neck. 

"Harry, love, I really like it. I can't believe you wrote all them things about me and I had no idea. Honestly, it's such an amazing thing for me to find. I love you so much." 

"Wait, what? So you're not horrified that I wrote all those creepy things about you, I mean-"

Louis cuts Harry off before he can finish. "No, Harry. I really like it, a lot." Harry smiles up at him, not really knowing what to say. Before he gets a chance to reply, Louis is up off the floor and dashing out the room, journal in hand.

"Where are you going?" Harry calls after him.

"Hang on, I'll be right back." Louis shouts back, already halfway down the hall.

 

After a full five minutes, Louis comes back, looking the same as he did before he left. However, this time he does hand the journal back to Harry, on the last page, which was empty when he left, but now has something on it.

Two polaroid photographs of the two of them are placed in the middle of the page. In one of them, both of them are smiling at the camera, hand in hand, when they went to the Eiffel Tower in Paris a couple of months back. The scenery behind them looks beautiful and it really was one of Harry's favourite nights spent with Louis. The second photo is of the two of them curled in bed together. Their arms are around each other, and they're placing a gentle kiss on each others lips. Both photos express their relationship so well; calm and so _so_ in love. At the bottom of the page, underneath the pictures, is the caption " _I love you_ " written in Louis' hand writing, the fresh ink still drying on the page.

Harry looks up at Louis, once again, this time all the embarrassment gone from his face. He leans forward to recreate the second picture.

 

The journal gets placed on the shelf in their house and Harry no longer feels he has to hide it or that it has to be his own little secret. He feels proud that, even after two years, he still feels the same amount of love towards Louis and is proud to show it off.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry. Comment to tell me if you liked it, or if you didn't? Thank you.


End file.
